


time works so hard for us (if only we can let it)

by supernutellastuff



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 00:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18789616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supernutellastuff/pseuds/supernutellastuff
Summary: When the countdown ends and the platform remains empty, Bucky and Natasha are the only ones not surprised.AVENGERS ENDGAME FIX-ITMAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD





	time works so hard for us (if only we can let it)

**Author's Note:**

> This was building up for a while. I'm still angry. They did my Natasha dirty. And I have no way of dealing with it except in fanfiction. 
> 
> Everything else remains the same but it's Clint who goes over the cliff. 
> 
> Title is from The Likeness by Tana French, one of my favourite books ever.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back."

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,” replies Bucky with the easy air of an inside joke.

Natasha catches sight of Steve’s face over his friend’s shoulder and her stomach rolls over uneasily.

“I’m going to miss you, buddy.” _Why would he miss him-_

“It’s going to be okay, Buck,” says Steve and that’s when she knows.

Oblivious, Bruce begins the countdown. “Five.”

She wants to yell, run, drag Steve’s dumbass away from the platform. At her side Bucky’s clenched his fists, like it’s taking everything in him to remain rooted to the spot. _He knows_. Their eyes lock. A current of understanding passes between them, and they stay.

“Four.”

She sees Wanda skipping stones with Cooper, using her powers to make his stone travel further and further. It’s the first time she’s heard him laugh since he realised his father wasn’t coming back.

“Three.”

Sam’s shooting the shit with Scott, intermittently throwing nervous glances at the platform.

“Two.”

There’s Pepper and Peter, sitting on the porch swing, talking softly.

“One.”

Natasha closes her eyes briefly. A slow breeze tickles the back of her neck.

“Zero.”

A stunned silence hangs across the clearing.

“Where is he,” demands Sam.

“I don’t know. He blew right past his timestamp, he should be here!” Bruce toggles the controls frantically.

“Well, get him back!”

“I’m trying!”

Knowing this was going to happen doesn’t lessen the pain. Natasha blinks back sudden tears. There have been too many losses—Clint, Tony, and now Steve. She hopes he’s happy but a part of her is angry at him for being so selfish, for leaving her behind-

Bucky points wordlessly. Natasha whips around. Sam’s jaw drops open. There’s a man sitting on the bench overlooking the lake. His hair has gone white and his once powerful shoulders are hunched. Natasha draws back, letting Sam approach him.

“So did something go wrong or did something go right?”

She stands next to Bucky, watching the conversation play out. He looks calm. A small smile flits across his face when Sam grasps the shield hesitantly.

The man twists around and beckons her forward. _I’m sorry I doubted you,_ she wants to say, _of course you came back to say goodbye_. “You smell like an old man,” is what she says instead, embracing him. She holds on to him a second longer.

“I _am_ an old man.” His voice is gravelly, his laugh more of a wheeze, but his eyes, his eyes, are the same cornflower blue as the first time she met him. They twinkle up at her.

“Who would’ve thought I would be the last one left, huh Steve? Thor’s going off to space. Bruce’s working with the time wizards. Clint…Clint—” For a moment she’d thought Clint was still alive. Her heart stutters.

Steve’s wrinkled hands find hers. “Clint made a choice.”

“The wrong choice,” she counters fiercely. “He had a family to get back to.” Meeting Laura had been the hardest thing she had done. _Don’t you dare disappear on us now,_ she’d said without an ounce of blame, hugging her tightly, _the kids need their Auntie Nat_. “He deserved happiness.”

“And you don’t?” he asks sharply. “I know what’s going on in your mind, you feel guilty for surviving. I've been in the same boat. Seeing someone I love fall to their death.” He smiles wryly, inclining his head towards Bucky, who’s standing out of earshot. “Don’t punish yourself, Natasha. You’ve worked non-stop for the past five years. You were the only one holding us all together. It’s your turn to live. This is _your_ second chance.”

“What, you really expect me to buy a condo and retire to Florida?”

Steve chuckles. “You could look after my boys. They’ll need your help.”

Natasha sweeps a glance at Sam, who’s holding and examining the shield from all angles with an air of disbelief. Then at Bucky. Their eyes lock again, and her chest tightens.

“That I can do.”

She doesn’t question him on the wedding ring. She doesn’t have to.

It’s Bucky’s turn to say goodbye and she steps away, letting the tears fall freely.

* * *

 

Natasha can’t bring herself to clear her messy desk. She perches on the edge, sipping cheap port wine, half-heartedly shuffling things around. Her eyes alight on a pair of ballet slippers on the chair next to her. She doesn’t know why she still has them. She hadn’t entered the studio since the Snap. Couldn’t bring herself to leave the compound actually. Between work and the gun range, she just hadn’t had the time.

A knock sounds at the door. “Come in.”

It’s Bucky, wearing the same sweatshirt he’d worn to the funeral. His hands are buried deep inside its pockets, and she can see his fingers twitching through the material.

“Ah, am I interrupting you?”

“Not particularly.” She shrugs. “I’m trying to clean up. Trying, being the operative word. So it’s more of a welcome interruption.”

“I didn’t know you did ballet,” he says, referring to the shoes she’s now clutching.

“It’s not something I advertise openly. I don’t remember _who_ taught me but like all things Red Room, the lesson stayed with my body. It’s hard to explain.” It occurs to her that it’s the first time they’ve had a full conversation.

Bucky nods. “No, I know what that’s like. Having parts of yourself that are not your own but you’re more or less stuck with. The only thing you can do is reclaim them for yourself.”

“Exactly.” She’s a little impressed with his succinct and matter-of-fact explanation. Unexpectedly Steve’s voice flits through her head: _It’s hard to find someone with shared life experience._ “So what did you come here for, Bucky?” Her tongue trips on his name.

“Look, Sam and I are heading out. We don’t know where, don’t exactly have a plan in mind. What we do know is that we want to continue what Steve was doing. The whole Captain America shtick…but in the shadows. We could use the Black Widow.” She cocks a brow and his eyes widen. “Not _just_ the Widow, of course. You are much more than that. What I’m saying is…Steve trusted you to watch his back. Which means _I_ trust you.”

Natasha cuts his rambling short. “Steve put you up to this?”

“Steve? No. It was Sam’s idea, and I agreed. I’ve seen you fight. We would be fools if I didn’t offer at least once.”

“You know, it’s funny,” she says, tracing the rim of her glass. “Because as soon as I was done packing I was going to ask you guys the same thing.”

An easy smile lights up his face. “Really? Glad we’re on the same page then.”

Hopping off her desk, she says, “I have a few loose ends to tie, a few people to meet.” The Bartons. Fury. Pepper. Sharon. “But after that…”

He inclines his head. “We’ll be in touch.”

“We’ll be in touch,” she echoes. Warmth blooms through her chest and she finds her eyes growing wet again. She has something to look forward to now; the prospect of doing good, of saving lives; a stab at carving her own place in the world. Natasha clears her throat and offers him the wine bottle. “Want some? It’s nasty but it gets the job done.”

“I don’t think I can get drunk,” he says with a sardonic twist to his lips.

“Steve thought the same until we made him chug a mixture of Tony’s best whiskey and Asgardian mead. Soon he was singing at the top of his lungs.” Her heart twinges momentarily at the memory of those raucous Avengers Tower parties. “We’ll get you there, I promise.”

Bucky laughs and Natasha realises it’s a sound she wants to hear again.

“I look forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: you can spot the ballet shoes in the peanut butter sandwich scene when Steve comes to check up on her.
> 
> Follow me on tumblr at supernutellastuff if you want to rant more about the injustice that was Natasha Romanoff's character arc.


End file.
